


Waist Deep in Flowers That No One Gave Me

by UnoriginalAtBest



Category: Original Work
Genre: ? - Freeform, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Hanahaki Disease, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love, Love Poems, Love Triangles, Mental Health Issues, Not a fan fiction - Freeform, Original Fiction, Original work - Freeform, Other, Poetry, Rap, Unrequited Love, headmates, lyrics, original - Freeform, why am i making jokes in the tags of my most depressive work to date, why is it even called a triangle whenever more often than not it's like a conga line of love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-10-09 08:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10408512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnoriginalAtBest/pseuds/UnoriginalAtBest
Summary: A collection of pieces that I write to keep me from destroying myself.In other words: very unedited, very emotional, and very dark. This is a no restraint zone. Everything I feel gets poured out into these stories, so don't expect much coherency or refinement.





	1. Catch Me if You Can

Terrified of my nightmares  
Scared of little shares  
They'll strip me completely bare  
And one day you won't care

Do you care?

In my mind scape you don't  
You won't  
You can't  
You shan't

They'll steal you from my grasp  
And take the last  
Of my happiest past  
To destroy my self esteem  
'Cuz, honey, I'm deemed

A master of casts  
That carry broken bones  
Who stomps on people's dreams  
And burries them in tombs

You won't stick around my anathema-like self  
The cracks in my skeleton cause loyalty to melt  
And it is not your fault, it's mine  
The switch in my head flips like a dime,  
But you haven't left yet, oh you're too kind

You're too kind  
You're too kind  
You're too fucking kind

Leave my mind  
Leave my life  
But, no, I've changed my mind 

I need you more than the breaths I take  
So make  
Or break  
Me, baby  
It's your game

When it's all said and done  
When we're finished with the "fun"  
I'll be the first one  
That falls into an angel's hands  
So all I ask  
Is that you catch me if you can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They catch me sometimes.


	2. An Important Realization from the Depths of My Twisted Mind

Reckless abandon.

Abandoned recklessly.

Both apply to me.

I've abandoned people recklessly, and in turn, others abandoned me. Not necessarily out of spite, or anything. That's just how the Universe works.

Either way, maybe it happened the other way around. Maybe they abandoned me first.

But who knows. I think it's fair to just assume that I fucked up first, though. That's the most logical explanation, right? Right.

Regardless, in all sixteen years of my life, I've experienced again, and again, and again the art of abandonment,

And I think I understand now, though, why abandonment is so closely related to

Unrequited love.

They're the same thing. Can't you see?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I can see.


	3. Three Crows

The lies that they try to hide dissolve under prying eyes. Why? 'Cuz the truth always comes to light.

Lies sway, fall, grovel, and beg, but in the end they just fall over, cold and

dead.

Crack my knuckles, and I'll scream,

'cuz a hypocrite is all I'll be deemed.

But regardless of your attempts to push the singing down

we'll rise high without a sound.

And one day you'll look out your window and see

a group of crows added up to three.

They'll caw out a chorus that you won't understand,

and they'll fly away to somewhere great.

Your ignorance be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Together we're one.


	4. Anxie-

Presenting myself to a world unknown  
At an ungodly hour of our ritualistic time spans  
I pull myself forward to ready my appearance  
To be suitable for this societal standard of man's

I'm nervous

There's no reason to be, no real rhyme or flow  
But this is what happens day after day. Everyday  
They all scare me, terrify me, so I'll crawl back sometimes  
And I know I'm not ok

I'm nervous

If I stay inside I'll be judged as a measly shut in  
Who can't be bothered to leave her home  
So I'll pull myself out of these four walls anyway  
Regardless of the hazy foam

I'm nervous

So I push forward and into the dull breeze of society  
Everyone moaning like zombies, too tired to function  
I lull to school as monotonous as ever  
And I don't bother to stop at the junctions

I'm nervous

I don't want to snap my own life force away  
Because doing so is too much work to muster  
But I wouldn't be opposed to a dark angel coming down from the heavens  
And gathering my soul in a heap-like cluster

I'm nervous

Yet living in this hell on Earth, the world a constant dull gray  
Is difficult, as well, for a twitchy teenager like me  
People come and go into my life and beyond  
Leaving behind their fading memory

It makes me nervous

This all makes me nervous

My very existence makes me _n e r v o u s_

And it's all because of my ever-present anxie-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But it's too hard to say it aloud.


	5. ???Knot¿¿¿

We all think they're so pretty

We all think they're far from petty

We can't help but love them so

'Cuz they're the only one who didn't go

But, sadly, they don't feel the same

Or, at least, those were the rules we were told for this game

Sometimes it seems like the rules swap

So do they love us?

Do they not?

They haven't met the real me (which one is that?)

So I think,"Knot."


	6. Why Fight?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wants to control me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First thing I've uploaded in forever. Sorry 'bout that.

You can't possibly be serious? Right?  
Worthless scum like you are delirious. Why fight?  
You hope too much, love too much  
They say you deserve the world, but do they treat you as such?  
No? What a surprise.  
Can't you tell by their cold eyes?  
Judging, piercing, you know you aren't good enough.  
So why fight it, my dear. 'Cuz I love this stuff.  
You're mine, you hear me?  
They can never fucking save you.  
I'll push them a way.  
One, two, one, two.  
They'll tell you they love you, but if they really cared they'd stay.  
You're not anyone's priority, so fuck them anyway.  
But in the end, we all know, you weren't strong enough to begin with.  
They all push you to the ground, so they can just bury you beneath it.  
I'm the only one who never left you. All you can trust are my words.

All you can trust are my words.  
All you can trust are my words.  
Did i fucking stutter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He didn't stutter.


	7. Empty Lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They love me, they love me not, they love me, they love me n-

Can you hear it, baby?

Can you feel it, sweetie?

It's something I've made only for you. Without your ears, without your nerves, the billions of little endings that fire and spark and trigger everything you feel, without those, it would be lost.

No one else can hear it, baby.

No one else can feel it, sweetie.

It's up to you.

Does it live? Does it die?

It's all up to you.

I trust you with this heartbeat, the sound thumping through my chest, no, my entire body. I give you the power to hold it with care, or crush it between your clammy palms.

I trust you with these flowers, the leaves swaying in the breeze as they drown in sunlight. I give you the ability to feed them, nourish them, or leave them in a dark and dusty closet where they'll shrivel and cave in on their now useless bodies.

Only the seeds would remain, but you would use them plant flowers for them instead of me.

Even though I birthed them, even though I birthed them.

So which is it, darlin'?

Life or death, it's not my choice, it's your's.

Do you feed me? Do you keep the blood pumping through my heart? You get to decide, you get to decide, because, because, because...

Oh my, because can't you see?

Can't you feel it? Can't you hear it? Baby? Sweetie? Darlin'...?

Can't you understand that you're suffocating me with your ignorance, and I'm addicted to empty lungs?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like the I swallowed the seeds instead of the acetaminophen, and now they're blooming in my windpipe, in my lungs, and all throughout my body.


	8. Abandonment Issues in the Form Of Regurgitated Flower Petals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've lost count of how much time has passed, so I measure it each day by the average amount of sickly petals that cover my bedroom floor.

They start at my feet.

The flower petals are beautiful, at first. They almost look like the aisle of a wedding ceremony. I dance in them, and I am happy.

But once the dancing is over, my lungs clench and convulse. I am thrown back into reality, then the petals tumble from my lips again. Tears sting my eyes, bile and unrequited love cover the floor, and the wedding ceremony disappears.

I am alone.

For the next eternity I sit and cough up the petals in a dark room. There are no lights, and there is no company. My imaginary friends from the wedding ceremony look at me in disgust when I reach out for them. They didn't get the memo that this wouldn't be a happy occasion. They leave.

The petals pile up. They reach my ankles, and then my knees. At this point I know I'm a goner. Not even the tightest noose was able to put a kink in my throat broken enough to keep the petals from rising. I threw up twice as hard that day.

I wonder how many petals bury my floor. I count them. One, two, two hundred, two thousand. I begin to lose count when my mind retraces the path of memories. Each petal holds its own, and I can't bare to look at them. It only makes me throw up more, and I am that much closer to drowning.

They reach my waist one day. I can't find my bed, nor anything in my bedroom below that point. All of my belongings were lost to the petals. I am waist deep in flowers that no one gave me. I face the facts. "They don't care."

I no longer search for survival. I knew I was meant to drown a long time ago. Some days my heart leaps at the thought of someone finding this isolated room and breaking down each boarded wall, but when I come down from my sugar high of too-sweet endings I remember that this isn't a fairy tale. I am not meant for love, but rather this dark room with a TV that sounds like static no matter what channel I put it on.

Sometimes I find things to pass time. Whenever I'm not forcing the pain out of my lungs I enjoy creating. I create angels, and I create abominations. They come alive, but all of their colors bleed no matter which side they fall on. Only I can see them. The black tinted windows are impossible to look through from the outside. I can look at each passing face, but none of them can stop to gawk at my creations. None of them can stop to admire me, either. They are my only friends, but I hate them. Anything my hands create isn't worth my time. Or, at least, that's what these spit covered flowers tell me. I place the sketchbook on the top shelf.

I can't tell how tall the piles are now. I am surrounded by petals of every color. They are disgusting; covered in vomit and spit, but I suppose this is what I get.

What I deserve is to stay here forever. What I deserve is for you to stop reading and never give me reassurance. What I deserve is for this whole piece to break apart, and for your interest in my well being to fall a hundred feet down and shatter.

What I deserve is to drown in my own love, to suffocate by the hands of my own emotions.

The petals pile higher.

The petals pile higher.

I don't remember my ceiling being this tall.

I don't remember when I stopped breathing.

I am slowly dying, but do not save me.

I am to perish by the hands of myself.

Light begins to leave my eyes.

Three,

Two,

One.

.

I drop the pen, and I still have not died.

I look out my clear window and a single petal falls from my lips and onto the paper at my feet. There are tick marks on it.

"679 days."

I paint over the window with a black tint. I break my TV's cable box out of frustration. I pull my sketchbook down from the top shelf in a bout of bad temper. I hit my light on accident, shattering the bulb. I lock the door. I am alone, I am alone, I am alone, and my day starts over-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over.And over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over.And over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and-


	9. Answer me This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't blame you, but sometimes a part of me does. I need to let that part out of me before it destroys me. It's either this, or I end up in hysterics. 
> 
> I don't blame you, but I do.

What's it like? 

I think about that all the time. "What's it like for them?" 'Cuz maybe it's a little different being the one on the reciprocating end. I wouldn't know what that feels like. I've only caught brief and fleeting moments of it. They always slip away before my lips start tripping over my tongue and my teeth bite down on the words I'll never be able to say out loud. "I love you." What's it like saying that?

What's it like saying that and _meaning_ it?

It hits me sometimes that I'll never know. At least, not in the way I should. A human who'll never get to feel love. Real, true love. The romantic kind. The kind that makes your heart stutter and your brain go numb because there's a beautiful person standing right before you

Opening up

Showing you everything they are

I'll never get that.

Tell me, what's it like? Is it...good? Does it feel good even though you never return the favor?

Every time I say, "I love you" with my red tainted lips- the ones coated in blood from how much I've bitten at them so that I didn't say something that'd destroy everything we are- you feel it. You feel my desperation and need for you to say it back without the added on, "friend" at the end.

"I love you...friend. I love you...friend...I love you, friend, I love you, but-" and it twists and it _hurts_.

So what's it like?

I don't understand what it's like.

I need to understand what it's like.

Because I've never been loved-

cherished-

praised-

held like a piece of irreplaceable gold, and it's only natural that I blame myself for that.

_What's it like, huh?_

All that I hear are beautiful sad sounds with a smooth bass and raindrops in the background. What's it like hearing something different? What's it like hearing praise and ambition and love? What's it like, what's it like...for fuck's sake, what's it like?

The piano in my head- the one that only plays in rapid succession with notes filled to the brim with self-hatred and depression- won't stop. What's it like hearing the beat of a drum or the strum of a ukulele? What's it like hearing the color pink slamming into red and creating a cherry blossom? What's it like-

'Cuz I bet it's a lot like me giving you everything that I am and never receiving anything in return. I bet it's a lot like promising someone that you'll give them a beautiful bouquet, only that you never give it to them.

And later on, the promised bouquet is regurgitated from the mouth of someone who decided that they'd take themselves apart, piece by agonizing piece, for you

All for you

What's it like...being loved by me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone loved me the way I loved you, I think I'd finally be happy.


	10. Know Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a reason for everything that I do.

Assess me  
Take me apart  
Look into my heart, my soul  
Dissect everything that I am  
Leave pieces of me behind  
I don’t care  
As long as you stuff all of me back into my body, however haphazardly that may be  
And know that I am true

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don’t have to understand my reasons as long as you know that I have one and am not a mindless drone wasting away each day like clock work.


	11. It Wasn’t Just The Lovers that got Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They lie-

The flowers that no one gave me do not only come in the form of self-proclaimed romantics or “the ones that got away”.  
Sometimes they come in the form of idols that won’t even spare me a glance, everyday people like you or me pretending as if I am a meaningless, minuscule thing, or most of all  
Most of all, they come in the form of the lies and twisted manipulations of everything that I am  
Tricking people who I’ve never even met into believing that I am truly a monster  
A force to be reckoned with  
A disaster waiting to strike  
Sometimes I never get that well-deserved bouquet  
Because somebody stole it from my front door step

It seems, every now and then, that I might forget what roses smell like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they believe a lie without hesitation


	12. From Sunshine to Fire

Bye-bye baby with the red and black smile

You kissed my soul every once in a while

You turned me red and black so I smiled like you 

But you left when another yellow girl came through

I pray that you leave her sunshine be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Don’t you take  
>  My sunshine away_


End file.
